


Nights Are Too Long

by BriarRose (Aryael)



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Post-Canon, Angst, Eventual Smut, F/M, Post-Canon, Post-Trespasser, Romance, Solavellan, Spoilers, Trespasser DLC
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-26
Updated: 2016-09-06
Packaged: 2018-06-04 16:51:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 15,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6666604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aryael/pseuds/BriarRose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He had left her broken by the secrets he finally laid bare. Pieces barely held together by the knowledge that yet another calamity was nipping at their heels. The Exalted Council had come to an end, the Inquisition was no more and the Inquisitor was finally free of her duties. But Aryael had a new mission now. She would save Thedas again and she would save her lover from himself, even if it meant she destroyed herself in the process.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Sooo… this is my first attempt at writing fanfiction and honestly I hope as I progress through this story that I do all of these amazing characters justice. Constructive criticism is always welcome! I am hoping to update this on a weekly basis and while I have an idea of how I want this to end… I have no idea how long it is going to take Aryael and Solas to get there… This is totally based off of my canon inquisitor from DA3 and all my head canon for my solasmance… Eventual Smut and Fluff is in their future.

The fading light of the day streaked through the windows in rose coloured rays, dancing along the marble floor of her chambers. Large, lavender eyes, dark with melancholy watched as the patterns of the floor lit up and came alive as the day died away. Another restless night where she struggled to escape the nightmares, to hide from her dreams and from him. She did not hear the turn of knob on her door, nor the creak of the wood as the frame gave way to her visitor. Tepid steps, softly falling against the cool stone, made their way towards the lone figure leaning her shoulder against the hard, white walls of the keep next to her desk. They looked on, grimace across their face as they took in her appearance. Long, silvery white hair cascaded down her back in a mass of messy curls. Her soft, green robes fell across her lithe frame, hugging her curves just as she hugged herself with her one arm around her waist. Ivory skin, glowing under the faint rays of sundown and made all the more pale by the prominent dark purple smudges beneath her eyes, testimony of her sleepless nights. She did not move and he wondered if she had noticed his presence at all as he stood in the centre of the room. He opened his mouth to speak.

“The days are too short,” she said, cracking voice almost a whisper, as she turned from her perch against the wall, downcast eyes raising to look towards her balcony and over the horizon. “Night comes much too quickly, never a chance to get anything done properly.”

He smirked, “Ah yes, m’dear. Just imagine what we could have done if Alexius’ time magic hadn't been so volatile? Extend our days, perhaps even our nights of passion. Oh what I wouldn’t give to experiment with that one!” He realized what he said as his mouth closed. Reminding her of passion was probably the last thing she needed at this moment. He fought to keep the regret off his face and moved on quickly, changing the subject before his poor jest could settle in. “Have you had time to eat today? Shall we see what the tavern has cooked up or do you feel like entertaining the Orlesians in the hall tonight?” He moved closer, coming to stand at her side just at the threshold of the balcony. 

“Dorian, you really do not need to fret like a mother hen. I am fine, truly,” she said, words stronger this time as she finally turned to face him. Her eyes roamed his face, taking in the harsh lines of stress she was no doubt the cause of. “And you really do not need to stay. It’s high time you return to Tevinter, to the Magisterium. I won’t be the reason you shun your responsibilities,” she gave him a soft smile. Dorian had been at her side ceaselessly as she began dismantling the Inquisition. He had held her hand in moments of weakness, when the pain had been too much to bear and she could not hold back the tears. He had been the one who found her in the crossroads, kneeling in front of the dark Eluvian, lips slightly agape, still moist from a farewell kiss with eyes wet and dark with loss. He had carried her back to the Winter Palace and listened as she brokenly shared her betrayal between sobs and screams. He had stood guard for her, letting no one unnecessary near her until she had been ready to come out of her rooms. It had taken her three days to gather the strength to move and he did not rush her. She would always be grateful for that care and for him. He had become her solid rock amidst the crumbling foundations of her world. 

“Aryael, you are my friend. A dying breed of rare beast in this world. I will not have you lie to my face nor push me out the door.”

She sighed, eyes closing briefly in a moment of submission. She should know better than to try to put on a brave face in front of him.

“I would not have you in danger because of me. Corypheus was one thing... Fen’Harel... This is personal, Dorian. I don’t know that I can do what must be done... I don't know that I can raise my hand against him...” she whispered almost to herself as she stared out into the Frostbacks once more. 

Dorian’s heart felt as though it were being squeezed of all life as he watched his best friend struggle with her demons. It had been six weeks since the Exalted Council. Six weeks since she had traversed the crossroads, uncovering more truths and lies about her heritage only to discover at the end of the path stood the lover who had abandoned her without a word. Only to discover that he was the monster of her childhood stories... that she had slept with the greatest Betrayer of them all. But that wasn’t enough was it? No, he had to tell her everything, spill his truths out in the open to assuage his own guilt. Bastard. Every word of his had cut her deeper than any blade could have and to know that she was dying by his own hand... that he had led her to him in order to take his mark so that he could give her what, a few years before he brought the world down around them? A cruel love. Who knew the hobo apostate had had it in him for the theatrical?

In the days following these revelations, Dorian had seen all light flicker and die out inside the woman he had come to know as his best friend. He had seen her curl into herself, withdraw from everyone around her. He watched her speak hollow words, listlessly march into the exalted council and disband the organization she had given her life to and go about the tedious task as though it were merely the unbraiding of her hair. He saw the dark circles deepen, her eyes fraught with wariness anytime they crossed an elf and her frame dwindle from lack of sustenance. In short, he was watching her slowly die. 

“Aryael,” he said gently, reaching his hand to her shoulder and giving a gentle squeeze, “when you are ready to discuss our next move, you are ready. If now is not that time, so be it. You are the Inquisitor-” she scoffed loudly at this, “were the Inquisitor. YOU defined the title, the title did not define you. If you are not Inquisitor anymore, so be it. We think of a new name. A new title for you, a new title for us... We are very good at saving the world, m’dear. We will save it this time too.”

He felt her shoulders shake ever so slightly as she repressed a sob. Turning to face him, she buried her face in his chest and took a shaky, deep breath. 

He ran his fingers through her hair, brushing through it as he aimed to calm her down. “You promised to save him, did you not? We will find the Dreadwolf, Aryael. We will find him and we will save him from himself. I shall start with his armor. I mean how can you possibly still not know how to wear a wolf pelt after all these centuries?” he said indignantly as he wrapped his arms around her small frame, holding her close. 

She laughed into his chest, her arm wrapping around his waist as she turned her head to press her cheek to his chest. “Dorian, the fate of the entire world rests on our shoulders and your first thought is that we have to save his fashion sense?” she chuckles. Another deep breath. Steadier this time. 

"Aryael! The fate of one's wardrobe is not a trifling matter! I see why they call him the _Dread_ wolf though," he stated with a mocking little shudder. 

A smile curled around her lips, a spark lighting somewhere in the depths of her violet eyes. “I have waited long enough, I think. Using the disbanding of the Inquisition as a refuge to hide behind in order to avoid planning our next steps. We will rally what remains under a new banner, recruit new faces...don a new name," she chuckled low in her throat, before turning her face towards him. "The world will not burn, Dorian. I won’t allow it.”

For the first time since Corypheus, Dorian heard the fire in her voice that had made him want to follow her across Thedas, into every battle and every court, staring death down. Aryael, it seemed, was finally returning.


	2. Chapter 2

She walked with purpose, her feet making nary a sound as she crossed the tiles of the front hall. Out of the corner of her eye, she took note of the throng of nobility milling about her home. They had arrived in droves, Fereldan and Orlesian alike, to see to the dismantling of her Inquisition. The banners had come down, her stables and armories reduced. Leliana had returned with her, a welcome assistance in removing the traces of her network and their connections to the Inquisition, sending missives and recalling agents to inform them of current events. Josephine had seen to the nobles, documents being drawn and signed between the powers that be and the power that was. Her forces had dispersed, Cullen sending battalion after battalion home with gold coin and gratitude. There was a bare bones honour guard company of sorts left at the keep, still headed by Cullen. He refused to send them home. The Fereldans hadn’t been fond of that. Cullen hadn’t cared. 

She passed a cluster of Orlesians, heard them whispering about what would become of the keep and she smirked at the audacity. Skyhold was hers. They would not take it from her. She rounded the corner, opening the door to the rotunda and lowered her eyes, feet determinedly following their path out on to the bridge to Cullen’s apartments. She kept her gaze focused on the ground, held her breath and heaved a sigh of relief as the fresh, cool air of the Frostbacks hit her cheeks. She was not ready to see his ghost today. 

She could tell Dorian was behind her still, following on her heels to see her through this bout of motivation. Her hand rested on the wooden door before pushing it open, careless to who may be inside besides Cullen. She found him sitting at his desk, face in his palms and fingers in his golden locks.

“Cullen,” she started, moving towards his desk and offering a smile as his head snapped up while she remained standing in the middle of the room. 

“Aryael, is anything amiss? Have the Fereldans begun making trouble again?” he inquired, always so eager to jump to her defense. He was standing now, chair pushed back and slowly making his way around it’s large wooden frame.

“Commander, I do think Josephine has them well and leashed at the moment. No need to fret,” Dorian offered as he leaned against the doorframe behind her. 

Cullen chuckled. “You’re probably right about that,” he said, taking in the sight of Aryael before him. Her eyes were red, from exhaustion or tears, he couldn’t tell. Perhaps it was both. Her silvery tresses had been pulled back and bound into a messy sort of bun, the same way she had worn it as she leant over the map in the war room, deciding their course of action. Her hand was behind her, arm bent at the elbow and she stood straight as an arrow before him. There was determination in her.

“Cullen, I would like a report of all remaining members of your forces, including any background checks previously performed. Do you know off hand how many elves are in this last standing unit? What is the length of service for the newest member?” she ran off her list in quick manner, eyes never leaving his as he leaned back against the edge of his desk. He couldn’t help but slightly widen his eyes at the sight of her.

“The report will be on your desk within the hour. The company stands at 97 men and women, 17 of whom are elves. The newest member of our unit is human and joined the inquisition after we defeated Corypheus just over two years ago. Shall I prepare them for inspection?” he didn’t want to sound hopeful. He didn’t want to put the pressure of his desires on the woman in front of him. She, who had carried the hopes and dreams of all the world on her shoulders as she fought to seal away the destruction of it all away. She who had patiently sat and listened for hours as she was drilled with the knowledge of human history and cultures and berated by those she strove save for having the nerve to not be human. She who had lost everything; her freedom, her clan, her _light_ in order to save those who now turned against her. She, who stood now before him, ready to take it all on again. 

“Not as of yet. I will be having each of them thoroughly investigated before preceding any further. I will be speaking with Josephine and Leliana about the remaining household members as well. We'll need to practice much more diligence if we are to avoid spies. I would like to go over some things together with everyone as well however, I am not sure the war room is the best place for this given our current guests and situation.” She had begun to pace in front of him, nibbling on her bottom lip as she usually did when lost in thought, the loose sleeve at her side swaying with the motions of her steps and reminding him once again of just how much the inquisition had cost her. 

“I would suggest meeting somewhere a little less formal and a little more private perhaps? Your chambers would actually do quite nicely for such an assembly, I would think.” Dorian suggested, buffing his nails absentmindedly against the rich, red silks of his shirt as he took it all in stride, as if Aryael had never even been a mere husk of a woman scant hours ago. As if she had never lost herself.

She spun around to face him, skirts of her robe swirling in a flash of dark greens around her ankles. “Dorian, you always think of everything! Yes, perfect. Spread the word among the remaining inner circle members. Tonight. Yes, it must be tonight. I have squandered too much time as it is. And these nobles have been here too long. I must tell Josie that they are to leave at once. The Inquisition is no more, I no longer need to play at being a welcoming host.” She turned to face Cullen, hard glint of fire in her eyes dimming slightly as if a sudden realization had just dawned on her. “I hate to ask, Cullen. I’ve already asked so much of you…” she lowered her gaze, eyes seeking and finding the engraved box sitting in the back corner of his shelves, a reminder that Cullen had given much to their cause as well. “Will you stay?” she asked, voice soft and warm as she raised her piercing violet eyes to meet his amber gaze. He felt it in his soul. Aryael would rise against this new threat and emerge victorious. And he would fight by her side through it all. 

He rose from his perch against his desk, taking the few steps to place himself directly in front of her and raised his hand to rest on what remained of her left arm.“It was never a question, Aryael. I will always stand by you,” he replied in a voice matching her soft tone, returning her gaze, eyes warm and full of admiration, giving her a small smile. It was good to see her again. The shadow moving about in her clothing had unnerved him these past few weeks. No, this, this was the Aryael he had come to know. This was the woman he would gladly give his life for.

She stiffened slightly under his touch, still not used to sensation of her missing pieces. Returning his smile, she wondered if he realized just how much she needed to hear him say that, needed to hear anyone say that. He wouldn’t leave. He wouldn’t abandon her. He would walk through the storm with her. And what a storm it would be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo this ended up coming out a little earlier than anticipated, hope you enjoy :)


	3. Chapter 3

The wind swept her hair from her shoulders and sent her skirts flying as she walked out of the Commander’s quarters and onto the ramparts, leaving Dorian and Cullen to their respective duties. She noted how empty the walkways were compared to the days prior to the Exalted Council. She couldn’t hear the clang of metal against metal as soldiers trained below, orders being barked as they practiced their formations. Sighing, she made her way towards the steps leading out into the courtyard. She was amused that no one had noticed her stride through her halls towards the rotunda. That the nobles were so preoccupied in their idle chatter that the subject of their gossip could slip right past them. Vultures, the lot of them. Picking away at the remains of the inquisition, hoping to accumulate whatever power they could through the disbanding of a once powerful entity. They would gain nothing.

Aryael had rushed from her rooms, filled with a sudden determination to set things right, Dorian’s words of encouragement filling her ears. How could she have let it go on so long? Allow for herself to become a husk of a being, barely even there. How she had managed such solitude, she wasn’t even sure, though she was grateful for the silence of the last few weeks. The voices in her head were kind enough to leave her the space she had needed to sort out her own thoughts after the many revelations her days at the Winter Palace had shed light on. 

She turned towards the tavern, familiar habits moving her body of their own accord. She nodded at a scout stationed outside the door before entering, recognizing the elf from before her days as Inquisitor. It was eerily quiet inside, not much cause for celebration as of late. The stools lay empty and even Cabot could not be found by her wandering eyes.

“How ya doin’, Boss?” the low timber of Bull’s voice cutting across the stark silence while he made his way towards her from his perch behind the stairs. 

She offered a smile in his direction, “Just fine, though my nerves could probably deal well with a stiff drink.”

A hearty laugh fell from the towering frame of the Qunari. “A stiff drink could do good for all of us. It’s good to see you out of your chambers, boss. Nothing good comes from solitary confinement.”

She smirked a little, wondering if he spoke from past experience. “Yes, well. It’s about time I got myself together isn’t it? Though I won’t pretend that contending with the combined nobility of Ferelden and Orlais seems less appealing than dealing with caverns full of giant spiders.”

He guffawed, slapping her shoulder. “You’ve shown you’re more than capable of handling them. And if they need a little strong arming, the Chargers are always at your back.”

She smiled at him, teeth flashing as warmth filled her at the reminder that she wasn’t completely alone. “I know, Bull. I am glad you’ve stayed. The battle before us…” she hesitated, still not completely sure what the future would hold for them, “it will be something,” she finished, thoughts now turned back towards the coming days. “I should find Leliana. And Josephine. Tonight, meet me in my chambers. There is much to discuss.” 

“Alright, Boss. Try not to let the nobles have it too rough, their delicate sensibilities might shatter.”

For a moment, she was saddened by his lack of sexual innuendo at her invitation but she realized he knew the dire straits they were in. Even Bull, it seemed, had no room for crude humour in the face of their dilemma.

She patted his arm and turned, walking out of the tavern and heading back towards the main hall. The voices that had been silent before, slowly coming back to life and whispering to her as she climbed the stone steps towards the door. This time, she did not avoid notice.

She strode into the hall, head held high as the murmuring came to abrupt halt, all eyes on her. Her stride did not miss a step as she made her way towards Josephine’s office, pushing open the door to find the ambassadors of Ferelden and Orlais standing in front of her desk.

“My lady Lavellan,” Teagan began.

“I would prefer to omit the pleasantries, Arl. The Inquisition has been disbanded, army scattered to the winds and treaties drawn up with your assistance. I believe it is high time that you return to your duties at home. Both of you.” She stated, her air of command almost crackling around her as she levelled her gaze towards the two men before her.

“Return to- are you insane?” the arl sputtered.

“I do not believe I stuttered. Skyhold is mine. Not the inquisitions. For all that it served as a headquarters and base of operations, I, and only I am its owner. I have graciously welcomed you as guests during the gruelling process of disbanding the organization that saved not only Thedas, but your very home, Redcliffe, as well. I simply state that now, as your work has been done, you are overstaying your welcome.” She held her hand behind her back, standing straight and rigid as she stared the man down.

“I do believe my friend is correct,” Josephine added in, a sharp edge to her tone usually reserved for those nobles who didn’t quite play along nicely, “Skyhold and all its surrounding lands in Ferelden belong to the Lady Aryael Lavellan, gifted to her by your own King Alistair and his Queen Consort Raiiyn. The bordering lands in the Dales have also been gifted to her by Orlais, promised to her in support of the titles she gained for her efforts in defeating Corypheus and saving Empress Celene’s life. It seems that with all the documents and discussions, you may have forgotten that the woman who currently stands before you is no longer Inquisitor Lavellan, but the Teryna of the Frostbacks and the Duchess of the Dales. I suggest that becoming familiar with this fact may halt future mishaps before occurring.” Standing at last, Josephine came to stand beside her, the look on Cyril’s face of unabashed amusement seemed to incense Teagan even more. 

His lips pursed, he stared daggers at Aryael before finally mustering command of language once more. “Your Grace, I apologize if it seems we had overstayed our welcome. We shall prepare to depart on the morrow.” He strode from the chamber with a cold fury burning within him.

A low chuckle broke the silence before the lilting accented voice of Cyril caught her attention. 

“Your Grace… that will take getting used to. A woman holding two titles, under two different kingdoms… and an Elf, no less… Times do change, do they not?” he asked with an amused smile.

“Three titles actually. We can’t forget the Free Marches, now can we? Varric was very proud of being able to dub myself Comtesse,” she chuckled. She may have lost the inquisition, she may no longer be inquisitor… but she was by no means powerless. A noble elf; it was truly absurd.

“I shall take my leave as well, Your Grace. I would however, like to extend an invitation to my family home. I must admit, I find myself fascinated by your current standing… and eager to see what comes of it. The winds of change, it seems, are truly upon us.” Cyril reached out and with a flair that by no means denoted her humble upbringings, she placed her hand in his, awaiting the courteous kiss upon her knuckles. 

“I believe I should like to take you up on that offer, my Lord de Montfort,” she says with a smile. He returns it before making his way out of the chamber, leaving Josephine and Aryael alone.

“I wondered how much longer you would be able to tolerate their presence with poise. I am glad to see that it was not long at all,” Josephine laughed to herself, eyes alight with merriment. She always did enjoy a battle of wills.

“Josie, I really have to thank you. I do not know what I would have done without you to fend off the claws of those nobles. I really don’t even know how I will continue to fend them off now that I seem to be one of them,” she sighed exasperated before letting herself fall back into the plush armchair at the front of Josephine’s desk.

“Oh come, my dear. You handled yourself quite well. You rank among the very elite of Orlesian and Ferelden Nobility. To be perfectly honest, you never have to speak to any of them should you not wish to. Your place as a valued member of society is too established. And your power seemingly stemmed enough by the great rulers to warrant you no threat to them. It’s as marvellous a ruse as any could have thought up. I do applaud Leliana’s deft hand for the game, truly. She even managed to get the Ferelden’s to play!” Josephine clapped her hands in delight. “I still cannot imagine how she managed to wrangle control of the Dales from Briala either. I cannot believe she was pleased to have her position alter so drastically. Celene’s bed must have been cold that night,” she mused, laughter twinkling in her eyes.

“Yes, well. I imagine it can’t be too hard when your best friend happens to be Queen consort and Teryna of Highever while simultaneously being the Warden-Commander of the Grey Wardens. As for Celene… I do not think I want to know what Leliana knew in order to make that happen. Truly, our divine is a force to be reckoned.” Her eyes fluttered, looking out the window to Josephine’s balcony, crinkling at the sides as a smile graced her lips. She knew those silent steps.

“Your Grace, I am a servant of Andraste. I simply mean to see the Maker’s Will manifest!” the redhead’s musical voice carried from the doorway leading to the war room. 

“Of course! The force behind the Maker’s Will. No less terrifying than if you simply acted on your own,” she chuckled, raising herself from her seat to face the woman. She stood unadorned by the robes of her station, choosing instead to wear the cloak and armour she wore as Spymaster for the Inquisition. She was glad her friends had chosen not to comment on her current state. She saw their eyes catch hers and noted the dark circles beneath them. That they saw how her robes fell more loosely on her curves, how her hair sat in a knotted mess in its bun. She was a wreck. She knew it. They knew it. No one need voice it. 

“I have asked Cullen for a full report on the remaining soldiers in his company. I trust Bull and the Chargers and feel no need to have them investigated. The Blades of Hessarian however, will need to be looked into. The remaining members of the inquisition will need to be outfitted for their new stations as a noble’s forces. The staff of the keep will also need to be properly vetted. I would like to see Mother Gisele return to our Chantry, here as well Leliana, if she can be spared. Her mind is sharp and her faith strong. I feel it would benefit those of Andrastian faith in the days to come." She paused for a moment, reminding herself she was no longer Inquisitor and they were no longer part of the Inquisition. "How long can I expect you to stay? And Josephine, I know you have duties in Antiva… your family… however, I would be remiss if I did not at least ask you to remain a while as my aide. Being Inquisitor is one thing… A noble is a world unknown to me.” Her gaze flicked between the two women before her, catching the look shared between them. 

“I shall stay until I am sure of the security of the keep and my own agents. The Chantry is capable of surviving a few months without my physical presence. The staff has already begun to be interrogated. Some have fled. I am sure more shall by the time we are through. Mother Gisele, I am sure, would be more than willing to return to your side as well,” Leliana cocked her head to the side, eyes searching Aryael’s for something before continuing. “We have had word regarding the missing elves across Thedas. His numbers are growing.”

She felt a cold chill crawl up her spine. His. Him. Fen’Harel. _Solas_.

“Let them grow. They will not stop us.” The edge in her voice was hard to miss. Aryael refused to lie down and play dead any longer.

“I shall stay as well. As adept at the game as you have become, I feel it is my responsibility to usher you into your new roles. I am perfectly capable of running my family affairs from here for the time being.” Josephine added in. 

Her eyes fluttered close with relief. She did not know what she would have done if they had told her they were leaving. “Thank you. I want you to know… I appreciate everything you have done for me. As Inquisitor and as your friend.” She opened her eyes, misty with unshed tears of gratitude. “Tonight, in my chambers I wish to call a council of the inner circle. There is much to be done, much to be said… And if we are to succeed… we must all be on the same page.”

“Of course, Aryael. We shall see you tonight.” Leliana responded, bowing her head slightly. 

She nodded once and made for the door after bidding them farewell and headed straight for the under croft. She hoped Dagna had not left yet.


	4. Chapter 4

Aryael stepped through the doorway leading towards the undercroft, feet falling softly on the stone beneath her. 

“Dagna?” she asked, voice echoing around her as she made her way further in towards the steps.

“Inquisitor! I mean, your Grace, Lady Lavellan, uhh- what exactly do you go by these days?” the nervous laughter of Dagna came from the far left of the room, near a table cluttered with runes.

“Aryael is just fine Dagna. I am glad I caught you.” She smiled brightly at the dwarf, coming to stand in front of her.

“Caught? Oh I’m not doing anything dangerous, I swear! I won’t blow up anything and I haven’t started a fire in a really long time. I mean, I probably could have, once or twice… I didn’t though! The keep is safe!” she prattled on nervously.

Aryael chuckled. “Don’t worry, Dagna. I know that research sometimes can get… a little out of hand. Especially magical research. I was wondering though… do you remember, a few years ago… we had a discussion about Lyrium? And Dreams? And the fade? You had said you found a connection that wasn’t really a connection…” she trailed off, not exactly sure where she was going with this. But the voices of the well were very clear. This was something that needed to be explored. 

“When I was tall? But not tall? Yea, I remember… After you went into the fade for the second time, I think I was on to something but it just… disappeared? Why do you ask? Are you going back to the fade? Could you get more samples?!” Dagna asked just a little too excitedly. 

“No, I don’t think I’ll be going back into the fade anytime soon… it’s just I was wondering where the veil fell into all this. The Lyrium and the fade… I want to understand the veil. I want to know how the veil might change, might even fall… just not the way the breach was making it happen.” She stated. Solas had made it clear that the tearing down of the veil would destroy everything… she was sure there was a way to do it without the destruction and so was the well. She just needed to figure out how. 

“The veil? But that would- magic would be everywhere! I don’t think even the dwarves could avoid it. Hasn’t the veil always been there though? What would happen to Thedas? Demons and spirits everywhere… it could be mayhem, Inquisitor! Or beautiful…” Dagna seemed lost in thought, pacing back and forth in front of Aryael with her chin clasped between her fingers. “Theoretically the veil is just a barrier. Barriers _can_ be removed.” She stopped and turned towards her. “Do you want to bring down the veil?” she asked, eyes squinting in question.

“I’d like to know if its possible, Dagna. And what, exactly, would be the cost. To Thedas, to the dwarves, the elves, the humans, the qunari… To the person who brought it down.” Her head cocked to the side. “Solas wants to tear it down. He says it will destroy the world we know but return us to the days of Arlathan. I want to see if there is another way to achieve his goals.”

Dagna paused, something like grief flitting across her face before she squashed it behind her scholarly mask. “Bring down the veil… yes, I think I can find the answers, Inquisitor. I’ll start right away!”

“Dagna, I know I probably don’t need to tell you that this a priority of course, but it is also something that requires a great deal of… secrecy. I would prefer if you report your findings to myself directly, and only to myself.” She placed a hand on the dwarf’s shoulder, squeezing it gently. She knew that Solas and Dagna had spent many hours together, discussing the fade and magic… His leaving had hurt her too. These newest revelations… well, they couldn’t have been easy on her either. Aryael understood that better than anyone.

“Of course, Inquisitor! I shall report directly to you. When I find something. Anything really. I’ll tell you everything I find!” she rattled on excitedly.

“Oh and Dagna… Aryael really is fine. I am no longer Inquisitor.” She smiled warmly at the dwarf before turning to take her leave and making her way back towards the main hall.

“You might not hold the official title anymore, Aryael… but you’re still the Inquisitor. You’re still a hero…” Dagna whispered, her soft voice carrying out into the caverns of the undercroft and nestling into Aryael’s ears. She smiled ruefully. She wasn’t truly a hero, no. She may have saved Thedas from Corypheus but she housed the culprit responsible for his rise in her ranks, handed him everything on a silver platter… warmed his bed. No, she was no hero. Just a naïve elf who’s scent the Dreadwolf caught.


	5. Chapter 5

She was tired. She couldn’t remember the last time she had actually slept. Spending her days seeing to the reduction of her operations, her nights reading and responding to missives. She was scared of her dreams. She was scared he would come. She was terrified he wouldn’t. 

Sighing, she made her way heavily up the stairs to her chambers, the noise of the hall receding behind her. The voices of the well were smug, happy that she was searching for answers. She ran her fingers through her hair, pulling the tie loose and letting her messy curls fall free. 

_I don’t even know if this will get us anywhere. There is almost no information left to us…_

Voices clambered in response, fighting amongst one another to be heard, speaking in ancient tongues she struggled to understand. 

_felas’el_

_Slower? Really? I’ve already wasted precious time wallowing in self pity…_

She sighed, eyes fluttering closed as she made her way towards her bath, using magic to fill and heat the water within. She struggled to remove her clothing with one hand, letting her robes fall to the floor in a mess. She stepped out of them as she worked on removing her small clothes before stepping into the warm water. Leaning back against the marbled tub, she closed her eyes, the steam from the bath flushing her cheeks. 

She didn’t remember the last time she bathed. She’d almost forgotten how comforting it could be. Her weary muscles, taut from disuse and lack of sleep had all but screamed in pleasure as the heat hit her body. She opened her eyes, looking to the ceiling as she sunk lower into the tub, letting back her head so that her mane of curls could soak. 

She would have followed him. She would have turned her back on everyone and followed him through that Eluvian. The knowledge of that petrified her. 

She groaned, closing her eyes once more as the memory played out in her mind’s eye.

Solas, dressed in his Elvhen armour, wolf pelt draped across his shoulder and kneeling before as he held her hand, curling his fingers into her hair as he pulled her in for a kiss. The taste of his lips on her own, the salt of her tears falling between them as she realized he was saying goodbye. The feel of his lips as he pressed her own open, claiming her mouth as his.

She shuddered, arm throbbing as she remembered the pain of the anchor being ripped from her. She didn’t want to say goodbye. She didn’t want him to save her life, to tell her to be happy. How could she be happy without him? Did he not realize what the last few years had been like for her? Did he not realize that he may walk the Din'anshiral but he was taking her right along with him whether he held her hand or not? 

She crossed her one arm along her stomach, hugging herself just under her breasts as she rested her head back against the edge of the tub. It was moments before sleep finally claimed her despite her struggles.

***

She stood in that same grove he had first left her in, moonlight twinkling around her and along the waters edge. She stiffened, realizing she found herself now in the fade. She had avoided it for so long, drinking concoction after concoction to keep going without sleep. But now she was here. And it was mere seconds before she felt that she was not alone. 

She stilled under his gaze. She did not want to turn around. She would _not_ turn around. He stood still, not moving watching from afar as she stayed in place. She could hear him breathing. She wondered how that worked in the fade. Did you really need to breath here, or was it just force of habit?

She sat down, crossing her legs as she settled into the grassy plains. She absently slid her hand through the grass, back still turned to him. She wondered how he had found her so quickly; how he had known she was here. Had he looked for her? Had he worried when he couldn’t find her? Did he think he had failed, that she had died?

She couldn’t help the small burst of satisfaction at those thoughts. She had spent years wondering the same thing, years looking for him to no avail. These past few weeks were nothing in comparison. 

He still didn’t move. She still felt his eyes boring into her back. She clenched her fist, ripping the grass from its home. 

She wanted to turn around. She wanted to see his face. She wanted to run into his arms and tell him she loved him. She wanted him to take her with him. 

Felasil! She needed to stop him, not help him. That was how she would actually help him. 

Her shoulders slumped and she sighed, just about to call out to him in defeat when she felt him leave. 

Of course he left. He never stayed.


	6. Chapter 6

The water had turned cold. She opened and closed her eyes a few times, adjusting to the darkness as she took in a few deep breaths while awaking from her ill-timed slumber. Raising her hand to her face, she rubbed the sleep away with her wet hand before letting herself submerge her entire body in the cool waters. Quickly, she washed herself, stepping out of the tub and walking to her drawers for a change of clothes as droplets of water fell to the floor from her ivory skin.

The task of dressing and undressing was still frustrating and took much longer than it should to complete. Once dressed in her smalls and a fresh robe of pale purple, she turned towards her windows as she pulled her damp tresses to the side, tying it best she could with one hand. The pale light of the sun was long gone, stars twinkling in the skies as the moons shone bright, lending her chambers an eerie glow. She waved her hand, flames flickering to light the candles in her chambers. She knew she would not be alone for much longer.

He had come to her dreams as he always had, silent and watching. It was the reason she strove so hard to avoid them as of late. But she knew she could not continue in this fashion. Especially if she meant to keep him from his destructive goals. 

Her eyes were drawn to her desk, covered in missives and large tomes. She needed answers. She knew his plans, yes. How he would achieve his goals however, she had not a clue. She assumed that taking her arm meant that he had also removed his mark that its powers and all that entailed were once again his. He could walk the fade as freely as she once had. How simple would it be for him to simple rip asunder that which he had made?

She sighed and heard the door open. One by one the remaining members of her inner circle filed into her chambers. She greeted them each with a smile, taking a moment to appreciate their consistent support and presence. 

Dorian lead the line, followed by Bull, Cassandra, Varric, Sera, Cullen, Thom, Josephine and Leliana. Vivienne had remained in Orlais, acting as a liaison for the disbanding inquisition. She had played a vital role in Leliana’s machinations regarding her current titles and social standing. 

“It is good to see you all. I know that I haven’t exactly been the best company lately,” she started.

“You could be spewing fire, Aryael, and your company would still be welcome,” Varric’s voice echoed out into the chamber. He had always made her feel safe, taking the edge off when everything started to feel like it was too much to bear. She was glad that he had returned to Skyhold with her, even knowing that his presence could not possibly last long.

“Yes, Varric is right. No need to continue belittling yourself my dear. No one would have been able to go through what you have gone through and come out the same.” Dorian’s words were reprimanding, yet kind as he made his way to stand beside her at her left. The rest of her companions made themselves comfortable, Bull leaning against the wall in front of her stairs, Josephine sitting on her settee with Thom, Sera cross-legged on her bed with Varric leaning against her bedpost and Leliana with arms crossed standing to her right. Cassandra stood next to the settee, right hand on the hilt of her sword. 

“Dorian’s right, yea? Shite happens. An’ when it happens, you deal with it. We’ll deal with it, Inky.” Sera added. 

She chuckled. “Right, shite, does in fact happen. And what has happened is probably only slightly less terrible than Corypheus.” She took a steadying breath as she looked each of her friends in the eye. 

“Solas, as it has turned out, is in fact the evil monster from Dalish legend, Fen’Harel. He intends to bring down the veil, the veil that he himself in fact put up and trapped the Evanuris, or Dalish would-be Gods behind. So we are going to deal with him.”

“Alright Boss, what’s the plan?” Bull’s deep timber voiced the question on everyone’s mind.

“There is no plan.” She paused, closing her eyes. “We know what Solas _wants_ to do but we have no idea how he plans on actually doing it. Right now, Thedas is not ready to believe that the Dreadwolf of the Dalish is on the prowl and ready to bring the world to its knees. We need, foremost, information. Information on the veil, on Solas, on his operations… We need to know exactly what we are dealing with. And we need to ensure security. It is no secret that the Inquisition was run rampant with spies from the Qunari and Solas alike. We are currently in the midst of cleaning house so to speak and I am confident that we will soon have a secure place from which to begin our endeavours. Leliana has assured me that she is vetting everyone that remains and will continue to vet anyone who thinks to join the rank and file of my noble house.” She smirked. 

“And once it’s secure then? How are we to gather information on the elf?” Thom’s question rang loudly in the quiet of the chambers.

“Chuckles won’t make it easy on us. Man always did have the best wicked grace face I have ever seen. Thom’s right, getting to him or through to his operations may not be possible.” Varric crossed his arms as he turned his gaze on her.

“It may not be impossible either,” Leliana’s sing-song voice washed over everyone as she withdrew a small piece of parchment from her pocket. “I have been tracking the velocity with which the elves of Thedas are disappearing, either by clan or single person from Alienages across Thedas and all known Dalish clans. There are those who have been reluctant to answer the war horn that he has sounded for them. This is a missive from a friend I have among the Dalish. I met him when the Hero of Ferelden sought the Dalish’s assistance against the blight.” She turned and handed the small paper to Aryael. Scrawled in a rush across the paper were two simple words. _He comes._ Her eyes flicked up to Leliana’s gaze, hand crumpling the paper in her fist.

“Solas was there?” she asked, trying hard to keep the desperation out of her voice. 

“Cammen was contacted by my agents as soon as I learned the truth from you at the winter palace. He is more than trustworthy, he fought at my side during the blight and I spent many days with him hunting in the Brecilian Forest, helping him with his bow techniques. He has agreed to be my eyes and ears among the elves.”

The room was silent, everyone taking in what they had just heard. They had an agent among the elves of Fen’Harel. 

Cassandra broke the silence first.

“He is but one man among a throng of followers. This Cammen may not learn anything at all.”

Doubt. So easy to come by these days.

“Cassandra is correct. Cammen is one man and he is not so outstanding that he may garner enough notice to join any form of inner circle. He has had no formal training, he has never been a spy before. But he believes. He believes in you, Aryael and he believes that the Dreadwolf must in fact be stopped. There is no one in this room who can say that belief is not a strong thing. If we had had no belief, no faith, what would have happened when were first faced with Corypheus?” Leliana turned to her companions, facing them each individually. Faith was what the Inquisition was founded with and on, and ultimately it had been the driving force that had ended Corypheus.

“It’s the best we’ve got, Cassandra. This Cammen may be the only one who will ever get even remotely close to Solas. We cannot let ourselves be hindered by doubt. As it stands, we have only just begun. Let’s wait until we hit some roadblocks before we start with the “this is impossible” speeches.” Aryael walked over to her, taking her hand in her own.

Cassandra had been the one to allow Solas to assist her in her efforts to close the breach. She had for all intents and purposes, invited the Dreadwolf in. She had encouraged Aryael to pursue him, smiling as she watched their romance unfold. She and Solas had been steadfast friends, spending many nights at their camps discussing things from the state of the Inquisition and world to philosophical talks on Gods. She blamed herself for Aryael’s heartache just as she blamed herself for not seeing through the man sooner. She should have known better than to trust the apostate who showed up at just the right time. 

“Aryael… I am sorry. I should not have been so rash.” The words were loaded with things left unsaid, guilt and feelings that went far beyond her most recent words.

“Cassandra, my friend, you have nothing to be sorry for,” Aryael said with a soft smile before turning to the room. 

“I know that all of you have lives outside of these walls. I do not expect you all to stay; I do not even expect all of you to assist-” before she could go further she was cut off by everyone.

They talked over one another, voices hard as they reprimanded her. Her friends would not leave her. Sure, Varric would return to Kirkwall and Dorian to Tevinter, with their respective tasks. Blackwall would journey to see his Warden Commander and Sera would venture with him to Denerim in order to speak to the Jennies. But they would all return, they would all assist and they would not abandon her.


	7. Chapter 7

“Running, searching. It’s dark without her, so dark. Why isn’t she here? Gone… no, she won’t-“

“That’s enough, Cole.” Solas says, bent over his desk, hands gripping the edge in a vice grip. For weeks he had searched the Fade, hoping to catch a glimpse of her. Anything that could let him know she was safe. Upon her return to the Winter Palace, Aryael had disbanded the Inquisition, removing almost every elf from her employ. A shrewd move, he thought with a slight smirk. 

But it had meant that his news of her had dwindled down to what escaped Skyhold through servants. All he had heard were rumours. A rotting corpse, never leaving her rooms; secretly dead by the hand of a Crow… he refused to believe the rumours that the Inquisitor was no more. 

“I want to help, Solas. The hurt doesn’t have to hurt.” Cole pleaded with him. Cole had spent the last six weeks at his side, leaving Aryael to Dorian when they finally found her. He had found Solas with his forehead pressed to the wall of this room; hand fisted against it and tears running down his cheeks. Cole didn’t understand why he would make himself hurt like that. He didn’t want to leave her. Aryael didn’t want to leave him either. 

“This is not a hurt you can help, Cole. And I would ask that you stop trying.” Solas stood turning towards the hearth as a knock sounded at his door. “Come in.”

A woman opened the door and stood in the doorway, back straight as she tried to look at Solas while avoiding his eyes. “My lord, there is news from the eastern front. Scouts have reported what appears to be Elvhen ruins matching your description in the forest. The Eluvian has been opened.”

“Notify Abelas. We will depart within the hour.” 

The woman left his chambers, scurrying out as quickly as could be. The Dalish were still quite jumpy around him. 

“Not here, no, not here! Why? I do not want to sleep! I do not want to be in the fade! Curse you mortal vessel and your damned needs.” Cole’s word were a panicked rush. “She’s there.”

Solas spun around, eyes widening as he heard Cole’s words. Within moments, he closed his eyes, willing himself to the fade and following the call of her dream. He stood on the edge of the grove, eyes raking over her with desperation. Her hair fell in soft curls down her back but could not hide the truth of her figure. She was thin; too thin. He recalled Cole’s words. Had she purposefully been avoiding the Fade? Grimacing, he realized the truth. She had not been avoiding the Fade, no, she had been avoiding him. The truth of it burned him.

He noticed her stiffen as she became aware of his presence. His breath hitched. He wanted to look into her eyes, to hear her voice. He should not have come.

She lowered herself to the grassy plains, mindlessly playing with the grass with her right hand. His eyes roamed over, greedily taking in everything, every curve, and every strand of hair... The left arm of her dress dangled empty at her side and his heart clenched in agony. He had done that. He was the reason for everything she suffered. He broke her.

They stayed like that for what seemed like hours, silent and not acknowledging each other before he finally left her sitting in the grove he had thought to free her in.

His eyes remained closed. Taking a deep breath, he turned. He could not afford to be distracted now. He was too close. Too close to righting all his wrongs and too close to saving her. He opened his eyes, a fierceness of determination in the grey-blue depths.

“Muffled cries, fresh tears. She won’t die, she won’t die…” Cole’s soft voice filled the stonewalls of the room as Solas walked out to face his People.


	8. Chapter 8

“Really my dear, you should try to find the time to visit. I simply don’t understand how you can bear to suffer the Ferelden cold,” Dorian’s cheery voice carried from the message crystal in Aryael’s hand.

 

“And when would I find the time? Josephine has me hosting fête after fête for the noble houses of Orlais and Ferelden. We’ve even invited Marchers,” she groaned a little.

 

She understood that this was the best way to mask any of her efforts. Hide behind doing exactly what Solas wanted. Live her life; keep busy. Let it buy her time until she could figure out her plans. Dorian had left her months ago, returning to Tevinter to take his father’s place among the magisterium. He had kept in touch, doing what he could to stem the exodus of the elves into Solas’ hands. Quietly with Bull and the Charger’s help, they had smuggled countless slaves to the Dales, where Aryael had started settlements for them under the humans’ nose.

 

“Has Her Grace tired of The Game already?” Dorian chuckled. “All the more reason to join me in Tevinter. Solas would not think a thing of it. A noble visiting a Magister to strengthen relations between their respective countries.”

 

“Right, because going to the side of my best friend, who is not only a powerful magister but one of the brains behind the resistance in Tevinter. I’m sure he wouldn’t think that I was plotting something at all,” she said drily.

 

“I am simply trying to save you from more of the horrendous fashions of Orlais,” Dorian sniffed.

 

“And I do appreciate it. How is everything aside from your obvious boredom? Have the magisters determined where all their slaves are going?” she inquired, turning the crystal over in her hand as she sat at the chair behind her desk.

 

Dorian scoffed. “Of course not. They are no more aware of where my little friends are headed than the rest of Thedas as to where all the elves have disappeared. It will become hard to hide them all eventually however. Have you thought past helping them escape Tevinter?”

 

“To be honest, aside from freeing them, I just wanted to get to them before Solas could. We can’t allow his numbers to grow further. Reports from Cammen have been quite troubling. The Eluvian network is not the crossroads we once knew. Sentinels roam them freely, mages working to repair damages caused and attempting to restore the great library. He says that he has seen Solas there, books thrown about as he scans them furiously. He’s searching for something, I just don’t know what. I don’t like not knowing what he’s up to, Dorian.”

 

“Perhaps we assumed wrong when we thought that taking your arm meant he retrieved the powers of your mark. Corypheus had said it was permanent, maybe he really was just trying to save your life?”

 

“Don’t.”

 

They had had this conversation before. As much as Aryael loved Solas and wanted to save him, she had no illusions to his motivations. He did nothing that did not benefit himself.

 

“I understand you want that to be the case, Dorian. Even as much as you hate Solas. You want to believe he has not yet harnessed the power to tear the veil down. I refuse to believe that. He is doing _something_ but that does not mean he is not already capable of fulfilling his goals.”

 

“You would know best,” he begrudgingly admitted.

 

“It was nice speaking with you, Dorian. Let Bull have a chance at the crystal next time you see him, will you?”

 

“Of course, my dear. Do take care of yourself. Try not to overindulge in those frilly little cakes and do not dance with too many dashing men.”

 

Aryael laughed. “I will try not to.” The light went out in the crystal as she laid it down on her desk. The past few months had been hard. Cammen hadn’t been able to send many messages; he didn’t know where he was. Sera was using the Jennies to try and track the missing elves along with Leliana, maybe try to find Solas’ recruiters if she could. Blackwall had travelled to Weisshaupt with the Hero of Ferelden to see if the Warden’s had any information that could be of use to them. Varric had strengthened ties with Wycome, making a very loud statement that Elves and Humans could co-exist on equal terms. It was making things change. Slowly, yes, but they were still changing.

 

Politically the wheels were turning, headway being made to remove alienages in principle, provide sustainable changes in cities across Thedas that improved the Elves and other impoverished citizens way of life. King Alistair and his Queen had been most helpful, having already begun such undertakings in the past. She had hoped this would dissuade some people from following the call of Fen’Harel. She had been wrong.

 

The elves still disappeared by the hundreds and no one could track them. She clenched the ethereal fist of her left hand, a manifestation of will assisted by the lyrium runes branded upon what was left of her arm. Dagna’s design. It allowed for all the utilities of a real hand, minus the sensation of touch. It was truly ingenious, allowing for no impediment to her movements and no drain on her mana reserves due to the lyrium.

 

“My friends are scattered to the winds and we have made no headway.” She wanted to laugh.

 

_What are you up to, vhenan? What are you searching for?_

***

 

Solas paced back and forth in his chamber, chin clutched in his fingers.

 

“Keep her safe. Keep her safe. Spells give no answers, wisdom is gone. How can I keep her safe?”

 

Solas stopped, turning slowly to face Cole. “You’ve returned.”

 

“She misses you, Solas. The smiles hurt and her laughs ring hollow. The others don’t know she still cries at night.”

 

His lips pulled tight into a frown, the tell-tale crease between his brows an obvious sign of his pain. He did not want her to suffer. He never should have pursued her. Even now, when everything was so close, she provided an unnecessary distraction.

 

“You could help.”

 

“I am helping, Cole.”

 

***

 

Cammen wore the same leather armour he had left the forest with, daggers strapped to his sides and bow slung across his back. He had spent months travelling as a messenger between groups of elves through the crossroads, delivering messages sealed with magic. When had volunteered to assist Leliana, he had thought he would be able to do more than simply pass on scraps when he could. He had no way of gathering information though, he knew next to nothing of their plans other than they planned on restoring Arlathan.

 

He sighed, stepping through yet another Eluvian that led to ruins lost to time in a dense forest. There were sentinels posted here and he approached the familiar group with a wave and smile. He had gotten used to the fact that they did not exactly like him or any of the elves of this time. He refused to treat them differently than he treated anyone else however. A tall hooded elf that he had come to know as Abelas stepped forward.

 

“You have word?” he asked. The man was always all business.

 

Cammen fished out a small stone from his pocket, letting it drop into the man’s outstretched hand. Abelas immediately activated the stone, not waiting for Cammen to leave as he usually did.

 

“Abelas?” A voice called from the stone.

 

“My lord.”

 

_Wait a minute… is that…?_

“What have you found?”

 

“The protective spells were strong but have been taken care of. They have done well to protect what was inside however. The hall remains much the same, as does the rest of the temple. There is a door that we cannot breach however. The glyph is too intricate and requires too much power to untwine.”

 

“I will come. Search the library. Take all tomes that discuss barriers, birth and anatomy, even if it is a minute section.”

 

Abelas turned towards Cammen then.

 

“Can you read elvhen?” the tall elf asked.

 

“I have been learning with the others. I can understand enough I think.”

 

Abelas nodded once. “The library is down the second corridor on the left. Begin to pick out the books like he asked. I will send others to assist. You will deliver them tonight to the hold.” He turned around before Cammen could ask anything further.

 

_The hold? Is that his main base of operations? Am I going to meet the Dreadwolf?_

 

 


	9. Chapter 9

Aryael’s eyes skimmed over the parchment in her hand once more. Vivienne had sent word from court. It seems that there was a small contingent of nobles gathering together in hopes of finding a way to ‘deal with the elves’. She crumpled the note in her right hand.  
   
_Fools._  
   
The humans had no idea what was coming. She sighed, tossing the missive into her hearth before turning to descend the stairs into the main hall from her chambers. The blood red skirts of her gown swished around her legs as she walked, the curve of her hips and trim waist accentuated by the tight pull of her corset. She hated these clothes. But she had a part to play.  
   
With a small smile curving her full lips, she made to greet the visiting dignitaries from Orlais, sliding her arm around the arm of a Marquis who’s name she forgot. She tittered at jokes, cheeks straining to maintain the look of amusement from behind the fan she opened. She walked with the Marquis and a few others to the Chantry gardens, letting them prattle on about the beauty of Skyhold without her.  
   
She needed to answer Vivienne and reach out to Leliana. This little upstart group in Orlais must be squashed. She would not have all the time she had put into creating the airs of a young woman who loved the noble lifestyle denied her kind proved to be fruitless. No, the Orlesians would learn.  
   
“My Lady, I had thought to inquire if you would do me the honour of dining with me this evening?” The question brought Aryael from her thoughts and for a moment she was speechless. The nobility had often played for her time, hoping to garner some notoriety as her favourite. She had shunned making appearances at court, instead holding fêtes in her home at Skyhold. She did not know that she was fond of the look in the young Marquis’ eye, however. There was something predatory there.  
   
“Why, Marquis, how could I ever deny you the pleasure? Please join me in the hall and sit at my side. I look forward to hearing more stories of your home in Val Chevin.” She offered him a coy smile, batting her eyelashes just as she was taught by Leliana and deftly maneuvered herself out of being alone with the man.  
   
“Of course! I shall tell you everything you wish to hear.”  
   
Out of the corner of her eye she noted the elven servant watching her. She knew that she had not gotten rid of all of his spies, no, that had not been her intent. She removed most, pretending to be happy and feeling at ease. Leaving a few to see exactly what she wanted them to see. She knew that this elf reported everything that they saw to Solas. She wondered what he must think of her antics? Did he think she was doing what he had asked of her? Was living her life with what happiness she could find? Did it sicken him to know that she pandered to the human nobility, playing their Game and dressing in their fashions? She wondered if he thought of her at all.  
 

* * *

  
   
Cole was waiting for her when she returned to her rooms to change for dinner.  
   
“He misses you.”  
   
She gave the boy a sad smile.  
   
“That doesn’t change the face it is not enough for him to change his mind, Cole.”  
   
“You should speak to him.”  
   
“He never stays long enough. You know that.”  
   
“You could find him.”  
   
“Follow him in the Fade? And where would that get me, Cole? I am not a Dreamer as he is. He could send me away before I could open my mouth,” she replied as she slipped out of the constricting red gown and reached for a dark blue gown, made of silks and a gauzy material from her closet.  
   
“He wouldn’t send you away.”  
   
She sighed. “No, he would leave. He always leaves.”  
   
She was becoming tired of Cole and his help. She knew that he spoke to Solas; spoke to them both in some misguided attempt to reconcile them. She had hoped earlier on to use that to her advantage but the boy was too determined to fix them to be of any actual use.  
   
“I appreciate your concern, Cole.” She turned her back to him as she pulled the gown over her shift, slipping her arms through the sleeves and waiting for Cole to lace up the back of it. “Is he… Is he alright?” she whispered.  
   
“He misses you.”  
   
Always the same answer.  
 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I KNOW I HAVENT UPDATED IN EVER!!!
> 
> Ir abelas :(
> 
> I have become really wrapped up in my other fic and its taken a lot of my time with planning certain things and then I moved... I will also be camping for most of July so I won't be around to write u_u
> 
> I promise I will do my best to at least give this a bi-weekly update. Though you should expect another chapter for this fic Monday/Tuesday next week :)

It had taken some convincing; Cullen was not fond of the idea of her leaving the defensible fortress that was Skyhold. But she needed to go. She needed to see it herself. And she needed to do it without prying eyes. Josephine had fabricated an illness and cancelled any visits. Ari had coordinated with Dorian and Bull, ensuring that the Chargers would meet her near the ruins of Haven and they would make their way into the Dales together. Cullen had insisted on accompanying her through the mountain pass, however, refusing to allow her to travel alone.

 

She dressed herself in soft brown leather trousers and corset over a white cotton tunic, fixing matching a matching bracer to her right forearm. Pulling a dark blue cloak over her shoulders and tugging the hood over her braided hair, she turned and grasped her staff in her hand and headed out the door towards the stairs leading down into the keep.The halls were dark and empty; servants having long since gone to bed and even the cooks would not rise for another few hours. Silently, she peered into the darkness and called the Fade around her like a cloak before treading into the main hall. She slipped down into the kitchens and through to the cellar where she exited the keep from a side door. Cullen was waiting for her by the stables, mounts prepped and ready to go. A grim look set upon his handsome face, he led both her hart and his steed through the lower courtyard to the main gate. The guards had been placed under a sleeping draught and Josephine had been tasked with ensuring they made it out of the gate without notice. Her previous training as a bard was truly an asset.

 

Once through the main gate, Cullen assisted her onto her Hart's back before mounting his stallion and they moved as quickly as they could without causing noise. When they had crossed the bridge, Ari let out a soft laugh.

 

"Sneaking out of my own home. Ludicrous."

 

"You could have remained at the keep."

 

"Cullen, you know very well that I need to go. There have been murmurs of Solas among the freed slaves. I wouldn't be surprised if he had recruiters among them, looking to find more numbers for his army. No, I must go. I must speak with them, help them settle. Show them that what I promised them, they will have. The Dales was ours once. And it is ours again."

 

"You could be set upon by anyone. You are making yourself an easy target."

 

Ari cocked a brow as she turned her attention towards Cullen.

 

"An easy target for whom? Did you forget that I am a Mage of no small talent? That I am the dragon slayer Herald of Andraste who defeated the blighted magister?"

 

If at all possible, Cullen frowned even more.

 

"You know what I meant. There are many nobles who do not like what you have become. Many more Tevinters who suspect your hand in their disappearing slaves. Not to mention..."

 

He bit his tongue on the end of his tirade. She did not need to be reminded of Solas' agents. Cullen believed him to be a wildcard, unsure of how far he would truly go to attain his goals. And that meant he could very well treat Ari as the enemy, regardless of how she felt about him.

 

Her eyes softened and she offered him a small, broken smile.

 

"He knows exactly where I am should he have wished to find me, Cullen. I have not hid from him. There is even an Eluvian in my personal rooms. He could have come for me at any time, and he has not. Nor will he."

 

Her words were shards of ice piercing her heart as she said them. All of it was true. She had made it easy for him, should he want to see her. To hurt her if he so chose.

 

But she could not believe that he could harm her. No, even as twisted as his vision was... He had saved her life regardless of the fact that he expected her to fall in the long run. He would not hurt her.

 

"Ari, I..."

 

"It's alright, Cullen. I've made my peace with it. And so should you. Skyhold is more than safe from him. Though his spies seem very comfortable in our midst."

 

Cullen remained silent. He had been against allowing some of the people Leliana had determined to be his agents to remain. One, maybe, but she had let two remain. Both of whom Aryael took great pains to ensure she was constantly in sight of. It had become heartbreaking to watch her preen and prance on the arm of a different noble every day, desperation hidden well behind her fan. Cullen knew she wanted a reaction. And she never got one.

 

They rode in uneasy silence, snow crunching beneath hooves, as the wind whipped around them, was the only sounds filling their ears. Moonlight glistened on the snow-covered path before them, sparkling like diamonds in the darkness.

 

"You really do not need to accompany me the whole way, Cullen. You'll be away from your post for over a week between escorting me there and back. That's not even including if we need to wait for Bull."

 

“It’s no matter. There isn’t much for me to do as it is. Skyhold’s defenses are taken care of.”

 

“They will notice.”

 

“If I know Josie, she’s already got a perfectly feasible excuse prepared for those who might ask.”

 

“Still. Both of us disappearing is not a smart move. They will talk. Solas will hear.”

 

“Worried he might think I ferreted you away?”

 

Ari laughed.

 

“Ferreted me away? Cullen, have you been listening to the rumour mill?”

 

“It’s hard not to hear the overly loud whispers when I pass the kitchen maids. They all seem to think I’ve remained solely for you.”

 

“The women are fanciful and romantic.”

 

“Would it be so terrible to let them continue to think it?”

 

Cullen looked straight ahead as they rode, refusing to look at Aryael.

 

She was silent as his words washed over her. Cullen had… he had been very supportive and protective. He had spent most of his nights with her in her chamber, discussing progress, playing chess and simply providing much needed distraction from the nobility roaming her halls. He was a good friend. A faithful friend.

 

“Many of the ladies who have visited have shown quite the interest in you.”

 

Cullen snorted.

 

“Orlesian nobles are vipers, Aryael, not ladies.”

 

She smiled to herself.

 

“They’re not all so bad.”

 

“Vipers.”

 

“Has no one caught your fancy? You deserve to be happy, Cullen. I would not have your happiness compromised by-“

 

“Aryael, do not concern yourself with it. I am content to remain at Skyhold. I am content to provide what aid I can to saving Thedas from ruin. You do not need to worry about my happiness.”

 

Her grip tightened on her reins as she gnawed on the inside of her right cheek.

 

_At least one of us should be happy, Cullen. And it will not be I._

 

The sun began to peak through the mountains as they ascended the pass towards the hidden passage into Haven. With any luck, it would be another two days before they arrived. They rode through the day, breaking for a small meal when the sun was high in the sky. Night had well fallen before they searched for a spot to make camp. They sat by a small fire, playing a hand or two of Wicked Grace before Cullen moved to take the first watch, leaving her to her bedroll.

 

 

* * *

 

 

She was running through the forest, longbow in hand as she chased fennecs through the green leaves, the sound of her brothers laugh trailing behind her. She had been young, when this happened. Perhaps 12 or 13. Her brother was adamant she learn how to hunt properly, that she couldn’t simply rely on her magic or the clan to always be able to provide for her. He had crafted her a bow, taught her fletch arrows and to aim.

 

She landed on a log, just before a clearing and notched her arrow, pulling the string of her bow taut as she aimed for the neck of the fennec. The arrow whirred and she grinned as she made her mark, the tall blonde frame of her elder brother striding into the clearing to pick up her kill.

 

“You are becoming quite proficient at this.”

 

The words startled her, the Fade shifting around her until she was in Haven once more, the Breach high in the sky and illuminating the snow with its green light. She took a step back; bow and arrows lost to the Fade. Her eyes roamed over the scene before her, mangled bodies, scorched stone and the searing presence of the anchor. She raised her left hand, eyes widening as she took in the mark.

 

She heard footsteps behind and turned, hands raised in defense. Her eyes narrowed as she took in the appearance of the demon. The pointed ears, cleft in his chin, sharp blue gaze…

 

“You have nerve to wear that form here.”

 

Full lips were tugged into a smirk.

 

“Vhenan.”

 

“Leave. Now.”

 

“But I have only just arrived.”

 

He clasped his hands behind his back, taking slow steps to circle around her.

 

“You are not welcome here.”

 

“Do you not enjoy this form? Have you not missed it? I hear what your heart desires. You could have everything you ever hoped for. I could give it you, Aryael. You could be happy here.”

 

She snorted. “In a lie? With you? You’re mad, demon, if you think I would ever accept this.”

 

He came closer, extending a hand and brushing his thumb against her cheek. She shuddered involuntarily, taking a step back, and then another.

 

“I see your loneliness and longing for a family of your own. For someone you love who loves you in return. For someone who will not leave.”

 

“Away with you!”

 

“You do not want me to leave.”

 

Before she could respond, the Fade twisted once more, the demon’s eyes growing wide in shock before his form returned to its natural state and he was forcefully removed from her sight. The scene became that of the Emerald Graves, stream running peacefully to her right and Crystal Grace growing wild all around.

 

“Solas?”

 

She whispered his name, heart clenching painfully. It had to have been him.

 

“Solas, _sathan_.” Her voice cracked as she begged, eyes wildly searching for him. She could feel him. She knew he was here. She knew he had driven the demon away.

 

Her eyes zoned in on the rustle of leaves and she ran, following the small movement. She could barely hear the crunching of leaves ahead of her but she refused to be left behind again. No, not this time.

 

Her lungs burned and her breaths came in pants as she ran at a break neck pace through the foliage. She slowed as a fallen statue came into view, the figure of a white wolf sitting before it. It did not stir as she approached, lips parted to catch her breath.

 

“Solas?”

 

His ear twitched, the only indication that he had heard her. As she drew nearer, his form shifted to that of the elf she knew, dressed as simply as he had been when they first met but he remained with his back to her.

 

She stopped a foot away; close enough to touch if she but raised her arm towards him.

 

“You should be more careful.”

 

She swallowed, the sound of his voice strange to her ears now, yet so missed.

 

“Ma serannas.”

 

“You have nothing to thank me for.”

 

“Solas, I-“

 

“You will be safe here. I should-”

 

“Don’t go!” She took another step forward, burying her face in his back as her arms came around his waist and clutched at his tunic. He had stiffened under her touch, back rigid. She could feel the tears welling in her eyes and she took a deep breath, the scent of him filling her nostrils with smoke and elfroot. 

 

“I should not have…” he sighed, the fight leaving him. He raised his left hand to hold her right, long fingers sliding over her own and intertwining them together as he gently made her release him.

 

She bit her lip as she was pulled to his front, wet, dark lashes framing her lilac eyes. He cupped her face with his free hand, thumb brushing over her tear stained cheek as he looked down at her with a painful expression across his face.

 

“I’ve missed you, Solas.”

 

He closed his eyes and lowered his forehead to hers.

 

“I should not have let you catch me.”

 

“You should not have run in the first place.”

 

He chuckled, eyes closed.

 

“You don’t have to keep running. I could-“

 

“Throw fêtes in my halls and entertain the human nobles while I go about my business tearing down the veil?”

 

She fought the urge to grin at his snide tone. She was doubly pleased that he thought that was all she was doing and that he did not seem particularly happy about it.

 

“You could not tear it down.”

 

The warm breath of his sigh brushed against her nose and lips and she curled her fist into his tunic.

 

“You know that I cannot do that, vhenan.”

 

“Solas-“

 

“This was a mistake.” His hand tightened around hers briefly before he began to pull away from her.

 

She slid her hand up his chest and around his neck, fighting to keep him with her and forcing him to look at her.

 

“That’s like saying we were a mistake.” She hated how defeated she sounded. How soft her voice was, how it cracked as she said we. The stricken look that flashed across his face pained her even more. “How can love be a mistake?” she all but whispered as she leaned into him, drawing him closer to her. She noted him swallow as their lips drew nearer. His lips parted and his eyes swam with something she could not discern as he stared into her own.

 

“Wake up.”

 

* * *

 

 

Her eyes opened wide and she sat up forcefully in her bedroll, hands clenched in fists around her furs.

 

_That damned wolf!_

 

 

 


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realized that I missed a few lines when I pasted the chapter from my computer *hides*
> 
> sorry!

He rested his head against the cool stonewalls of his office, fist clenched tight as he broke his skin against the rough edges near his face.

 

_Vhenan... I should never have..._

 

He fought back the overwhelming sadness that threatened to take hold of him, swallowing hard. He pushed himself straight up and opened his eyes.

 

The desire demon had been nothing compared to what could have been drawn to her emotions. The despair, pain and longing were palpable in the confines of the Fade. His words though, and the defeated look in her eye... What he offered her wasn't something she wanted to resist. Not truly, no. He had seen the moment the want had almost eclipsed the truth of what he was offering. The hollow pretend that could never be. It had broken him.

 

He had done that. He had placed her in the position to be sought out, to be weak in the face of temptation. And he was her temptation. Even after everything he had done, the secrets and lies, abandoning her... She still wanted him. She still loved him.

 

He was her weakness just as sure as she was his.

 

"Love isn't weakness, Solas."

 

"Cole."

 

"You shouldn't have made her wake up. She is very angry. Hurt." The boys voice took on a strange tone, following the speech patterns of someone far away. "That damned wolf! He doesn't get to throw me from the Fade after he... After he..." The blonde fringe covering his eyes shook as he moved closer, bright blue eyes staring piercingly at Solas.

 

"It was a lapse in judgment on my part. It will not happen again. I should never have let myself be seen let alone let her catch me."

 

"But you did let her catch you. You wanted her to catch you."

 

"I am not discussing this, Cole."

 

For a fraction of a second Solas could swear he saw irritation flit across the boys face before he disappeared.

 

He released a sigh of exasperation, pinching the bridge of his nose before turning to his desk. The ruins Abelas had found for him had provided some answers to his dilemma. He was stronger now, yes. No longer the weakened fool who had awoken from uthenera years ago. But he was nowhere near as strong as he had been when he had created the veil. Even with Mythal's magic and his key... He could do nothing. He needed more strength. The artifacts he had found during his time with the inquisition had helped to restore some of what was lost. Returning to him pieces of his strength used when weaving the veil.

 

He had spent the better part of almost three years searching for the ruins of his people, temples that may have housed other foci... He had found Sylaise's foci behind the warded walls of the overgrown marble ruin. Her priests had always been adept with wards of protection and it had taken more than he would have thought to break through their barriers.

 

Reaching out his hand, he traced a finger over the smooth lines in the shape of flames that covered the orb. It thrummed beneath his touch, echoing the protective magics that had been found in her temple. It would take time to unlock it; preparation. It would afford him the time he needed to find a way to...

 

He pushed away from his desk, scowling as he clasped his hands behind his back.

 

He couldn't save them all. Some may survive but the change would... Would she finally hate him when she sees what he has wrought? What he done to her? What his death will make her?

 

Shaking himself free of these thoughts he turns to gaze out his window into the forest.

 

The people must be restored. That is what matters.

 

***

 

Cammen had thought he had his big breakthrough when Abelas had requested he bring tomes to the Dreadwolf. Turned out that literally meant leave this heavy wagon in his library and make yourself scarce. It had been two weeks since he delivered them and his days had resumed their monotonous routine. Something had been found in the ruins he had been sent to. Something important.

 

There was a hum of anticipation among the other scouts. An eagerness for something. They had all been given a map and sent to scour through the wilds for any traces of elven magic or ruin. Taught to recognize what it felt like, looked like.

 

He continued his careful approach through the thick green foliage in southern Tevinter, just on the border of the Marches. He had managed to get a bird to Leliana with his circumstances. Mentioned the books and the ruin but that he did not know where it was or what had been in it.

 

She had no way to reach him but she should know where he was now. He wondered what the Dreadwolf could possibly want with those books. What he had found in the depths of the ancient temple. It had been heavily warded and Cammen knew that the Dreadwolf had spent hours unravelling its protections. He had still been there when Cammen left with the wagon and a sentinel bearing Mythal's vallaslin.

 

He came to an abrupt stop as his eyes caught something flickering in the distance. He crouched low, unsheathing a knife as he approached cautiously. Stopping a few yards away, he noted the flames of veil fire dancing on torches at the mouth of a cave.

 

“Well, that just screams creepy.”

 


	12. Chapter 12

Cullen and Aryael had been travelling for 3 days and were just approaching the pass that would lead them to the ruins of Haven. 

"You could turn around here, Cullen."

Cullen sighed heavily.

"I will see you safely into Bull's care. Do not ask me to leave again." He nudged his mount forward, leading the way through the wide passage between the mountains. 

Her brow furrowed as she watched him slowly make his way through the pass, nudging her hart to follow with a soft press of her knees. She pulled her cloak tighter around her, clutching it together with her ethereal hand. 

"Do you think it will come to war?" she asked after some time had passed.

Cullen turned his head towards, gaze soft as though he were ruining a childhood dream.

"We are already at war, Aryael."

She hummed, nodding slowly as she gripped her reins tighter. Snow had been falling for a few hours now and light was fading. With any luck, they would reach Haven shortly and be able to set camp for the night. Bull should be arriving in a day or so if the scouts were correct. 

"And I have no army... He has hundreds upon hundreds, doesn't he?"

She brought her hart up to march side by side with Cullen. She looked at him from beneath dark lashes, cheeks flushed from the cold and head slightly tilted to accommodate the height difference. 

"It appears that he does have the numbers. Are you... What are you saying, Aryael?"

"I should not have let go of my army. I don't think I can avoid fighting him head on for much longer. At least not once we know where he is or how he plans on accomplishing his goals." She ran a frustrated hand through her hair, grunting displeasure as her fingers got stuck in her braid. "I need to be prepared for a real war."

"What changed?" Cullen stared at her, eyes open with his confusion. She had been quiet these past few days, aside from trying to get him to turn back. 

Lifting her head, she looked to the sky before closing her eyes and taking a deep breath.

"He won't let go," she whispered.

"You spoke to him?" He could not keep the shock from his voice. Almost three years had passed since Solas had left the Inquisition, almost a year since he had taken her arm and declared himself for who he really was. 

She chuckled. "If you can call it that. He is stubborn. A stubborn, stubborn wolf that doesn't seem to know whats good for him or others. He... I fear that it may just take brute force to get him to really listen." She gnawed on her bottom lip, lost in thought as she replayed their meeting in the Fade. He did not want to hurt anyone, that much was clear from their meeting in the crossroads. And he still cared, that was evident from his reaction to her in the Fade. But it clearly wasn't enough. 

"The Exalted Plains. There are forts there, damaged from the civil war but still. And the Citadel. You trust your men, yes?" She turned her sharp gaze towards Cullen.

"I do."

"Good. Send some. I want the area prepared and ratified for growth and training. I'll send word to Sera, speak with Bull and Leliana... Skyhold is easily defensible but Thedas... If we are at war, then we best truly prepare for it. When you return to Skyhold, you'll need to prepare to follow me properly. After you send a good group of your soldiers ahead, of course. I will meet you at the Citadel before I return to Skyhold."

"Aryael?" Cullen was slightly taken a back. She had been very adamant that Solas was not their enemy and she would not treat him as such.

"Like I said Cullen, it may just take brute force to get him to listen."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know its rather short but next time we'll get some Charger action!
> 
> Seems like Aryael is starting to get fed up with her wolf there :o 
> 
> Updates will continue to be sporadic as I just began school again and really need to work on my portfolio aside from working and keeping on top of readings. And again, my other fic WDMC is really taking precedent as far as leisure writing. Mostly because the entirety of that tale is mostly already planned out.
> 
> But I WILL finish this!

**Author's Note:**

> any and all elven in this work are courtesy of the amazing works of Project Elvhen by FenxShiral


End file.
